


Nightmares

by CandyEyeballs



Category: Dead Rising
Genre: Death, Disembowelment, Domestic Fluff, Fluff, Gore, M/M, Nightmares, Zombies
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-20
Updated: 2017-09-20
Packaged: 2019-01-01 00:24:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,028
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12144486
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CandyEyeballs/pseuds/CandyEyeballs
Summary: Frank has a nightmare, Brad makes him breakfast.





	Nightmares

**Author's Note:**

> Hey! this is my first fic here on Ao3, and I really love Dead Rising. Unfortunetly, the DR fics already on here arent very good from what I've seen. Hope this one is! Enjoy!

_Too late. He was too late. He didn’t even get to hear his last words._

_Brad’s mangled body lay on the floor of the parking garage, a huge nasty gash cut clean through his stomach, the reddish-pink of internal organs exposed to the cold air. Parts of his arms and neck were stripped clean, down to the bone, glistening in the dim light of the flashlight. The light in Brad’s eyes were gone. The incessant groans of the infected rang out all around them, they were the ones who had killed him. Killed Brad._

_Frank hardly even registered his own tears, he was completely and utterly speechless. The flashlight in his hand clattered to the floor and rolled into the foot of a zombie not that far away. Frank had covered many, many stories. Even wars. He’d seen things like this, but it never bothered him. He’d always been detached. But this? This was so much different. He’s become attached to Brad, attached to Jessie, to Isabella, even Otis the old janitor and the other survivors. He liked Brad. He had even been planning to ask him out when all of this horrible zombie nonsense had blown over, he’d finally found a kind and wonderful man that he wanted to be with. But now, he’d never get the chance. Frank would never get the chance to hold Brad’s hand, to laugh with him, to be with him beyond the professional stance. Brad Garrison, the one man he wanted to be devoted to, was dead._

_A dozen pairs of destroyed hands clawed at Frank, ripping at his clothes and dragging him away from Brad’s broken body. He was dragged into the center of a group of them, clawing at his clothes, his skin, biting him, mindlessly gorging themselves on him like he was a Thanksgiving turkey. He didn’t scream, he didn’t move. He just laid there and cried as he slowly felt himself leave his body…_

...

Frank jerked upright in bed, covered in a thin layer of cold sweat, shaking uncontrollably. He swallowed the lump in his throat and looked over to his side, seeing the other side of the bed empty. Panicking, he threw off the sheets and ran out of the bedroom, coming to a stop in the kitchen. There, sitting at the kitchen island was Brad, his fellow Willamette survivor and his boyfriend of 3 years. Brad looked up from the morning paper to see his boyfriend standing in the kitchen doorway, eyes wide and crying. He stood and walked to him, wrapping his arms around the tired journalist.

“Morning, sleeping beauty… you okay?” Brad looked to Frank, worry set in those beautiful brown eyes. Frank wiped the tears from his eyes and laughed.

“Yeah. I’m okay now, just a nightmare. Probably triggered from the news ‘bout what happened in Vegas the other day. All those people.”

“You wanna talk about it?” Frank shook his head and closed the gap between them, hugging Brad tight.

“I’m good, honey.” He sighed. Brad smiled and planted a kiss on the shorter man’s head.

“Whs frr breffis?” Frank asked, muffled as his face was buried in Brad’s chest. The taller man laughed and finally broke the hug, walking over to the stove, where the food was covered to keep warm.

“Made a classic, all-American breakfast. Scrambled eggs, bacon, a couple pancakes, toast ‘n jam, you name it. And we got coffee, so no worries.” Brad dumped his dirty dish in the sink and gave his cup a top off before sitting back down at the island.

“Hey can you turn on the TV? The news should be on.” Frank looked over his shoulder while he loaded his plate with two fluffy pancakes, a good helping of scrambled eggs with cheese and hot sauce, two pieces of toast with strawberry jam, and the rest of the bacon. Brad turned on the news, the man and woman who normally sat at the desk were discussing the Las Vegas zombie outbreak.

“With the death toll rising, we now go to Rebecca Chang, live at the scene. Rebecca?” The camera cut to a beautiful woman in a tight, white button-down shirt and a form-fitting black skirt standing in front a chain-link fence with a sign labeling the area beyond the point as a quarantine zone. She was holding a finger to her ear and after a few seconds she dropped her hand and looked into the camera.

“Hi, Julie. I’m reporting live from just outside the city of Las Vegas, Nevada, which has been hit with an outbreak 10 times worse than the Willamette incident 5 years ago.. It has been almost twelve hours since the first reports of a zombie outbreak in Las Vegas. I’ve just been informed that the death toll is estimated to be over one hundred thousand, and as many as a staggering one million people may be infected. To ensure that the contagion does not spread, the military has set up a fifty mile perimeter outside Las Vegas. They have ‘shoot to kill’ orders for anyone off the main roads. Military and government personnel are screening everyone at the roadblocks before allowing them to leave the quarantine area. We’ll keep you updated as the story progresses. I’m Rebecca Chang, back to you at the desk.” The screen then cut again to the two reporters at the desk, who then informed the audience of an upcoming commercial break.

“Jesus Christ…” Frank stopped eating and rubbed at his eyes. He was getting flashbacks again. Brad tapped the journalists arm, then grabbed his hand and started rubbing his thumb over Frank’s. Frank sighed and put his head on Brad’s shoulder.

“I love you. No matter what happens.” Frank whispered after a moment of silence.

“I love you just as much.” Brad kissed Frank’s cheek, who kissed him back on the lips.

“Wanna go to the park later today? Should be beautiful outside.” He asked.

“Sure, why not?” Frank smiled, the memory of that dream quickly becoming a distant memory. Those days were over now. He was too busy looking forward to the next 12 years with the love of his life.


End file.
